Edward Segrave supposes that the literary parlour game of naming the one book you would take with you if marooned on a desert island isn’t played very much these days, for life in Europe is at least as desolate and about a million times as hazardous as Crusoe ever knew it. The game now, which any day may find you playing in earnest, is, what book will you choose when the air-raid siren blows just outside the lending library? It is a strain, Mr Segrave adds, that demands from contemporary literature a new standard of values and one that would impose upon writers who stopped to think' about.it a strain that Would flatten them into pancakes.
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Southland Times, Issue 24237, 21 September 1940, Page 9
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116Untitled Southland Times, Issue 24237, 21 September 1940, Page 9
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